Kitchen Canary by Joanne C. Parsons

Author:Joanne C. Parsons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical fiction, irish history, boston history, irish catholics, 19th century boston, irish domestics
Publisher: Joanne C. Parsons

Months passed. No benefactor appeared.

Paddy confided his disappointment to his wife, “I can’t believe it. Not one man has stepped up. I thought we’d have the money in hand by now.” Moira feigned sympathy for Paddy’s disappointment. “You deserve it, Paddy. You worked hard convincing Councilman Walsh.”

“I’m sorry, luv, I shouldn’t be carryin’ on about my problems. I know you are more concerned about the miscarriages. Two in ten months… I wish I could make you feel better.”

Moira wore her feelings of worthlessness on her face and in her posture. They were apparent to those who knew her best. Father Mark reached out, “Moira, is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, Father, this is a burden I must bear alone. My shame keeps me from bearing a child.” She looked at him, “Perhaps prayers.”

“You are always in my prayers, child. I pray you’ll be relieved of the pain of your past.”

Moira swallowed at the reference to her secret. Holding his gaze into her eyes, he continued, “I left Ireland to serve the Irish immigrants in Boston. I’ve listened to dozens of young women who suffered at the hands of their employer.”

Moira lowered her head, “I’ve carried this secret for so long.”

“I know. The shame is great. I’ve been awakened many times in the middle of the night to find a young woman at my door holding a newborn infant in her arms.”

“What happens to them?”

“The women or the infants? If there is no family willing to take in a child, I bring the infants to an orphanage. Sometimes the father, if he’s an English employer, makes a grand gesture and adopts the child without acknowledging it as his own.”

“And the women?”

“In my many years as a priest, they are my greatest sadness.” “Tell me, Father.”

“The shame, guilt and loss are often too great. Abandoning a child, not knowing where they are, who they are with, is all too much.”

Moira’s eyes widened.

“They often take to drink or the street life. Some are lost forever. Others find the strength to move on.”

Moira moved from thoughts of herself, “What can we do?”

“Right now, we pray for a miracle. I cannot violate the seal of the confessional, but I also won’t stand by without trying to stop the abuse.”

“I want to help, but I won’t risk others knowing about me.”

“Moira, dear, there are ways to help without revealing your secrets. You and Paddy are well known in the parish. You might help raise the money for the nursing school. And later, the Sisters will call upon you to influence women to take the training. It’s good work.”

He reached for her hand, “It may help distract you.” “Yes, Father, I need that. Tell me what to do.”

Father tilted his head and spoke in his finest Irish brogue, “Could you conjure a miracle for us, Mrs. McMahon?”

Moira smiled.

“We need ten thousand dollars. If you can’t bring us a miracle, perhaps you’ll enlist Katie and Paddy to pray with us.”

“Of course, Father. Please, remember, Katie cannot know I confided in you that she, too, is suffering at the hands of Mr.

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